Henry

You know when you’re driving, and you seem to snap back into reality after apparently being zoned out and you realize you’re driving? You just think, “shoot! I’m driving! I hope I didn’t run any red lights back there or hit any kids.” This was one of those moments for John. Except for instead of driving a car, he was sitting on a boat. In the middle of the ocean. 5 miles away from the shore. With his girlfriend, Marie.

John was surprised to find himself on a boat with Marie. Neither had suggested it, as neither were the kind of person to suggest things. Neither had agreed, as neither were the kind of person to agree to things. John didn’t even know whose boat they were on. They were not the type of people to own boats.

Feeling a strange sense of utter and complete confusion, John looked to Marie. She was sitting across from him, her hands clasped on her lap, her feet tucked beneath her seat, staring out into the vast oceanic emptiness. “Uhh, Marie?” John peeped.

“Yes?” Marie replied, still staring into the ocean.

Looking in the same direction as her and seeing only the blue sky meeting the blue water, John asked, “Why are we on a boat?”

“Well, it would be hard to have our annual boating trip without a boat, John.”

John looked at Marie. Marie looked at John. Slowly, John’s face contorted into an emotion such as if he had just eaten mustard on watermelon and was trying to decide if he liked it. Marie stared back at him, her lips and eyebrows in lines parallel to each other.

“But. . .” John spluttered.

“But. . .” Marie urged.

John looked from the floor to Marie, who was again looking at the ocean. She looked as peaceful as if she was sitting on a cloud of cotton candy, looking at a unicorn painting a rainbow.

“But we don’t have a boat!” John hollered, jumping up to his feet.

This caught Marie’s attention. “Of course, we do, silly. We’re on it right now.” Marie still had no concern written on her face. The only change of expression was the smallest of lifts on the corners of her mouth.

Still standing, John looked dumbfounded at Marie. “I see that we are standing on a boat, Marie. Where did the boat come from?”

“I suppose it came from the boat store.”

John slowly sank back to his seat, putting his head into his hands. “Oh, my goodness.”

“What’s wrong, dear?” Marie asked, sitting as ladylike as ever.

John lifted his head. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he repeated, growing in volume.

“That is the question I asked,” Marie responded. “Is something wrong with your hearing?”

“No! Nothing is wrong with my hearing, Marie! Don’t you see?” he grabbed her hands and looked pleadingly into her eyes. “We are on a boat in the middle of the ocean. We don’t go boating. We don’t have a boat! How did we get here?”

“Well—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” John reclined back in his seat. The wheels in his brain still could not string any sort of sweater out of this tangled mess of yarn he had been given. John looked back at Marie, who was yet again, gazing out at the horizon. “What are you looking at?”

Marie offered no vocal answer, she just used her arm to motion that she was looking out at the ocean, not even averting her gaze while doing so.

“Do you always give such obvious answers?”

“Do you always ask such obvious questions?” she retorted.

Feeling like a bird without a nest, John sat and looked out at the same ocean Marie found so captivating. At least, it certainly seemed like the same ocean. After about 5 minutes of silently staring at the soothing sea, John’s stomach notified him that he could not remember the last time he had eaten. “I’m guessing we don’t have any food on this stolen boat?”

“We didn’t steal it, and why don’t you have something out of the picnic basket?”

“What do you mean? There’s no picnic basket—” John couldn’t finish his thought because Marie had pointed to the large picnic basket that was sitting on the bottom of the boat. Figuring this might as well happen, he accepted the basket. “At this rate, there’s probably lobster and cheesecake in here!”

“Well, if you want lobster, you could probably get some from here,” Marie offered, looking down into the water next to the boat.

John paused, the picnic basket lid raised halfway, disbelieving that he really heard those words come out of this woman’s mouth. He looked at her as she looked back at him with her same, innocent, unshaking face. John knew he should just move on, but he couldn’t. “Are you suggesting that I, a man on a boat in the middle of the ocean, just reach into the ocean with my bare hands and grab a lobster out of the ocean? And then eat it raw?”

“Don’t be silly,” she chuckled. John heaved a sigh of relief. It was a joke. A joke with probably the worst delivery he had ever heard, but at least she wasn’t serious. “You’d probably have to get into the water to reach the lobster.” With pain in his soul from having to be part of this conversation, John wanted so badly for this to be a joke, but he knew that it wasn’t.

The pair ate a bounteous meal from the mysterious picnic basket, John not completely certain that it wasn’t poisoned. They ate in silence, John not asking any more questions for fear of the replies he might receive.

After finishing his drumstick, John was struggling to find somewhere to put his half-eaten stick of meat. He wasn’t very keen on letting it sit in the boat, ripening. He wasn’t sure why there wasn’t ice in the basket to keep it fresh in the first place, but he decided not to dwell on that. Seeing his struggle, Marie suggested he throw it into the ocean. Not loving the idea but not having any better options, John tossed his lunch scraps over the side of the boat.

While cleaning up the rest of his lunch, John suddenly heard a huge “whoosh” and “splash” and he nearly fell over the side of the boat when something heavy leaned on the side. “Is this yours?” All the hairs on John’s body stood straight up at the sound of the deepest voice he had ever heard, accompanied by the fishiest smell he had ever encountered. He slowly turned to see his recently discarded drumstick being held up by the thing leaning on the boat. A shark.

With no control over his movement or vocal cords, John shrieked like he was a newborn baby who just saw a ghost as he again nearly fell out of the boat trying to escape the monster.

“Woah, there, buddy. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just want to know if this is yours,” the shark rumbled.

“Umm, yeah, it is.”

“Then why is it in the ocean?” he snarled, at least as best as a shark could snarl.

“My girlfriend told me to do it!” John exclaimed with no hesitation, pointing his shaking arm at Marie.

“Tsk, tsk. You litter in the ocean and then don’t even have the dignity to own up to it.”

“Hey, don’t shake your head at me! You’re just some stupid shark! Why should I listen to you?”

“Did you just call me stupid?” the shark threatened.

Realizing his grossly miscalculated mistake, John kept opening his mouth waiting for words to come, but nothing came so he just sat there like a cowardly little fish.

“Oh, now you’re mocking me, are you?”

“No, no, of course not! I just—”

“Do you know easily I could take you right now? One bite and CHOMP! You’re gone.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! This is my first time offending a shark!”

“Well, good for you. Just don’t do it again, okay, buddy?” the shark seethed as he threw the drumstick back in John’s face.

“Right,” John surrendered.

Satisfied, the shark relaxed, still hanging off the side of the boat. He looked around at the place he called home. He was surprised to see Marie. She was still sitting with her hands across her lap, her feet tucked beneath her seat, lost in the view of the ocean. From only five feet away someone could easily mistake her for a mannequin.

“Hey, uh, what’s with your girl?” the shark nudged.

John sighed. “I don’t know, man. I mean, shark. Do you have a name?”

“Yeah, it’s—” the shark proceeded to say his name that John heard to be “glubglubblubblubglub.” But you probably can’t say that so you can call me Henry.”

“Henry, really?”

“Yeah.” Henry stared at John. John stared at Henry.

“So,” John continued. “Like I was saying, I don’t know what’s up with Marie. She’s just been kind of out of it.”

“Interesting.”

“I’d say. Though I’m not sure that it’s more interesting than having a drumstick thrown in my face by a shark.”

“One of those days, huh?”

“Yeah. . .”

“Hey!” Henry hollered at Marie. She responded by averting her gaze to the shark. “You go; I don’t know where to go from here,” Henry handed off to John.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Marie?” John inquired.

“Of course I’m okay, John,” Marie replied with an innocent smile. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Henry and John shared a befuddled look. “Well, for one, you haven’t really reacted to the shark I’ve been having a conversation with.” John explained.

“What shark?”

“What, what shark? This shark!” John yelled, gesturing to Henry who flashed a toothy grin.

Marie looked directly where John indicated, looking Henry right in the eyes, and said, “I don’t see a shark.”

“Well, that’s just mean,” Henry whimpered.

“Are you sure you’re alright, John?” Marie speculated.

“Of course not!” John exclaimed as he heard Henry moaning in the background.

“Just deny a shark’s existence right in front of them, why don’t you? It’s not like they have any feelings!”

“Henry!” John yelled. “Pull it together!”

“Who’s Henry, John?” Marie queried.

“Henry’s the shark.”

“Henry’s quite an odd name for a shark, don’t you think?”

“Well, technically it’s glubglubblubglubguglblub, but in English, it’s Henry.”

“You butchered that, but thanks for the support, man,” Henry admired.

“Oh goodness, now I’ve gone insane,” John mumbled.

“Henry’s more of a name for a walrus, don’t you think? I think Walter is a better name for a shark. Or maybe Matthew,” Marie pondered.

“Hold up,” John urged. “Marie, you’re telling me you don’t see this giant shark leaning on our boat?”

“Marie looked again but shook her head, “John, there’s nothing there.”

“I’ll show you there’s nothing here!” Henry hollered as he jumped up with an impressive leap and slapped Marie across the face with his fin. “Marie! Open! Your! Eyes!” Henry shouted with more slaps.

“Henry!” John cried, pulling him away from Marie. “You can’t go around slapping people! Especially not women people!”

“That seems kind of sexist,” Henry teased.

John knelt in front of Marie who was holding her hands to her cheeks. “Marie? Are you okay?”

Marie blinked and it was clear something came alive behind her eyes. “John? Where are we? Why do my cheeks hurt so bad?”

“Well, we’re on a boat. And you just got slapped by a shark. Multiple times.”

Marie stopped rubbing her cheeks and looked from the floor to John. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You got slapped by a shark.”

“How are you saying that with a straight face? What did I get hit with, seriously?”

“Seriously, a shark slapped you. This shark, actually.” John leaned over so that Marie could see Henry who offered a little wave of his fin.

Marie’s jaw dropped. Now it was her turn to open and close her mouth repeatedly like a fish.

“I know, I know, it’s a lot to take in,” Henry boasted. “It’s not every day you get up close and personal with something as beautiful as this,” he motioned to himself.

John turned back to Marie. “He’s a little cocky, but he’s alright. His name is Henry.”

“You know you sound insane, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure.”

“Well,” Henry sighed. “I think my work is done here.”

“What work?” John asked. “All you did was throw a drumstick at my face and slap my girlfriend.”

“And I did it pretty well, I think.” Henry confirmed.

“Well why did you come? Why did you physically assault us?”

“Assault is a strong word,” Henry argued. “But I did what I had to. You had to wake up, John. You and Marie.”

“What do you mean?”

“You had to learn how to open your eyes, John. Really open them. Before it’s too late.”

All humor had left Henry’s voice. “Henry, what are you talking about?”

“Goodbye, John.”

“Wait, wait—”

Henry wound up his fin and brought it crashing against John’s face. John’s face seemed to continue with the fin, dragging his body along with him. He was falling into the water. As soon as his face hit the water, he was flooded with air.

He was gasping for air. He clutched around him, finding sheets. A nearby light turned on. “John?” Marie sat up next to John. “John, what’s wrong? You’re covered in sweat and sound like you’re fighting for your life.”

John was still trying to figure out what was going on. After some sips of water, he was able to catch his breath. “It was a dream. It was all a dream,” he muttered.

“What was?”

“The boat, the picnic basket, the drumstick, you, the shark, Henry.”

“Who’s Henry?”

“The shark.”

“The shark’s name was Henry?”

“Yeah.”

“Henry doesn’t seem like a shark’s name.”

John chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” John teased.

“Well, it sounds like a very interesting dream, you’ll have to tell me about it sometime. But, right now, it’s time to get up and ready for the day,” Marie replied, getting out of bed.

“It’s so early, where are you going?”

“I’m having breakfast with my mom and sister. Remember? We’re going to that cute little diner. Then, I’ll come back, and we’ll just have a usual Saturday.”

“No,” John spluttered.

“No?”

“No, let’s do something.”

“Okay, like what?”

“I don’t know. We should go out and do something.”

“Okay, how about going to the beach? We could try to get a canoe or paddle boards and go out on the water.”

“No! Um, but we could go to the aquarium.”

“Okay. I didn’t know you had such strong feelings about the beach,” Marie laughed.

“I’m just not feeling it today.”

“Okay, crazy.”

__________________________

Later that day, John and Marie made it to the aquarium. They wandered through the exhibits and read the factoid plaques about the different animals. Then, they walked into the hallway fully made of glass. The enclosure was on both sides of them and there was a water bridge above their heads. Fish of all shapes and sizes were swimming all around them. The way the sun hit the glass, the hallway looked like it sparkled.

In awe, Marie stopped to look at a school of fish. John looked at the animals, then he looked at Marie. The greatest sight of all. How lucky he was to have this woman beside him. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she put her arm around his waist.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Marie sighed.

“More than I ever realized,” John replied, not staring at the fish.

Marie looked at him and rolled her eyes. “So cheesy, John!”

Her laugh floated up into the air. Why had John never noticed that before? A flicker from the other side of the glass caught John’s eye. He moved closer to see what it was. From behind a coral, came a shark. It wasn’t a large shark, but it looked familiar. Then he realized. It was Henry. Well, a smaller version of Henry.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation. Maybe it was realizing how much he cared for the woman he was lucky enough to be able to call his. Whatever it was, something made John suspect that this shark was looking at him. As John looked at the shark, the shark looked back. Then, the shark winked at John. He knew that this was next to impossible, but maybe, just maybe, he could live to dream a little.

John thought of his new friend Henry. He remembered what Henry had said. John needed to open his eyes. Really open his eyes. Before it was too late.

John found Marie with his eyes. She was now gawking over seahorses. “Maybe Henry was right.” Marie looked over at John and smiled. John smiled back. It was the most effortless smile he had ever had to make. “Thanks, Henry,” John whispered as he looked back at the tank. The shark was still there. John liked to believe that Henry gave the slightest nod of his head. John returned the gesture.

Feeling the most relaxed and content he ever had, John glided over to Marie. Taking her hand in his, noticing a gleam in her eye and a smile on her lips, John knew that everything was going to be alright. All he needed to do was open his eyes to see that he had everything he needed.